From the Desk of W.W.P
by FLuFFy
Summary: It's been a long summer for Wesley, as told through a series of letters. :) r/r?


"From the Desk of W.W.P"  
By: FLuFFy  
Rating: PG13  
Notes: What Wesley's been up to over the summer, told through a series of letters to  
and from our favorite Brit. Also with little bits of narrative from me.  
  
  
----  
  
  
April 30th, 2002  
  
  
Dearest Mother,  
  
I am writing to inform you that I will be unable to attend the family reunion  
next month. I wish I could be there, however, due to unforseen developments,  
  
(At this point, Wesley grabbed a bottle of vodka, muttered "Unforseen  
Developments", spent a good fifteen minutes weeping, drew a moustache on a  
picture of Fred and then spat on it.)  
  
I will not be able to make it back to England.  
  
Love,   
Wesley  
  
P.S: Send food. Please.  
  
~~~  
  
  
May 5th, 2002  
  
  
From the Desk of Wesley Wyndham-Pryce:  
  
  
Dear Angel,  
  
You are a prick. If I weren't such a girl who's afraid of being smothered, I  
would come over there and proceed to kick your ass. Never in my life have I met  
someone who could be so smug as to call themself a "champion." Apparently you have  
confused the definitions of "champion" and "ignoramus". I hope you and your filthy,  
hobbit-looking instant-grow son are happy.  
  
Your former boss,  
Wesley  
  
P.S: You're fat.  
  
  
(Wesley pondered whether or not to send this letter for a few minutes. After a bit  
more vodka and mumbling, he decided that he had nothing to lose. What would Angel  
do? Find him? Good luck! Wesley figured he'd be living in a box on the streets soon.)  
  
  
~~~  
  
May 8th, 2002  
  
  
From the Desk of Lilah Morgan:  
  
  
Wesley,  
  
I hope you haven't forgotten our little "rendezvous". (Just so you know, I just  
did the smirk thing) I give it a day before you come crawling back. Once you go bad,  
you never go back. Plus, you know I'm good in bed. Admit it.   
  
I still hate you,  
Lilah  
  
P.S: You really need to shave. Beards are nobody's friend.  
  
  
~~~  
  
May 14th, 2002  
  
  
Dear Lilah,  
  
If I work for Wolfram & Hart, will there be demons with hot pokers to sear my  
eyes shut so that I'll never have to see you nude again?  
  
-Wesley Wyndham-Pryce  
  
~~~  
  
  
May 16th, 2002  
  
  
Wesley,  
  
That's clever, Wes. Except that, you know, it's not. I just thought I'd let you  
know that your friend...sorry, former friend Angel's been missing in action for a while  
now. I've set you up a meeting for the 21st. Come. Don't come. That's your call.  
  
Lilah Morgan, Wolfram & Hart  
  
(Lilah then did the smirk thing...again and snarked on Gavin)  
  
~~~  
  
May 25th, 2002  
  
  
Dear Wesley,  
  
Angel and Cordelia have been missing for weeks. Gunn and I tried calling you,  
but there was no answer. We've also tried coming over to your apartment, but you're  
never there. Please help, Wesley.  
  
Sincerely,  
Fred Burkle  
  
~~~  
  
June 1st, 2002  
  
  
Dear Fred,  
  
I don't think I'm out of line when I say Na-na-na-na-boo-boo, I couldn't care  
less about Angel, and in writing me, you have only farther proven that Angel  
Investigations wishes to ignore me unless they need something. You'd do well to  
never pester me again, Winifred.  
  
Sincerely,  
Wesley  
  
  
(Wesley then sighed, pined for Fred, snarled at the thought of Gunn and Fred, ate a  
tv dinner, looked at porn on the internet, and went to bed. He didn't send the letter  
until the next day.)  
  
  
~~~  
  
June 17th, 2002  
  
  
Welcome to Wolfram & Hart, Mr. Wyndham-Pryce. I think you'll find this a most  
pleasant firm to work for. However, we have zero tolerance for people who break the  
rules. And so, inclosed you will find a copy of the rules and regulations of Wolfram &  
Hart.  
  
-Linwood Murrow  
  
(Linwood then sighed and wished that he could be as cool as Lindsey)  
  
~~~  
  
June 30th, 2002  
  
  
Dear Wes,  
  
I knew you'd come to your senses eventually. Welcome to the soulless club.  
Hope you enjoy your stay. Speaking of enjoyment, you're welcome in my office any  
time you get the "urge".  
  
Your boss,  
Lilah Morgan (Miss Morgan to you, ass.)  
  
~~~  
  
July 18th, 2002  
  
  
Wes,  
  
Fred and I are starting to get worried. We haven't seen Cordelia and Angel in  
two months. We know you're pissed, but we need your help. Without Angel, the  
fatality rate in this city is just gonna keep goin' up.  
  
-Gunn  
  
P.S: I broke up with Fred. Damn can that girl yammer!  
  
  
~~~  
  
July 29th, 2002  
  
  
Wesley,  
  
If you're still looking for work, which I assume you are, I just opened my new  
club in Vegas and I need a bartender. British people know how to make drinks, right?  
Right?  
  
Your green pal,  
Krevlorneswath  
  
P.S: I'm totally over the whole whacking-me-with-a-statue thing.  
  
~~~  
  
August 12th, 2002  
  
  
Gunn,  
  
Since you two geniuses clearly haven't figured it out yet, I'll tell you: I am not  
going to help you find Angel. I will never help you find Angel...or Cordelia, for that  
matter. That hussy didn't even come to visit me once. Not once!  
  
Wesley Wyndham-Pryce,  
director of special projects,  
Wolfram & Hart  
  
P.S: Did you notice my title, you jerk?  
  
(Wesley then sighed and had one of those intense, British moments that he   
sometimes has. You know, one of those "Look what you've become" kinda  
deals.)  
  
~~~  
  
August 22nd, 2002  
  
  
Lilah,  
  
I've been trying to do my work to the best of my ability, but I'm finding Gavin  
to be too much of a hinderance. In short, is there any way we can have that  
annoying moron killed?  
  
-Wesley  
  
P.S: He can't act either. -FLuFFy  
  
~~~  
  
  
August 27th, 2002  
  
Mr. Wyndham-Pryce,  
  
Lilah contacted me regarding your feelings toward Gavin. I thought I was the  
only one who found him to be an irritating little twit. Needless to say, it has been  
taken care of.  
  
-Linwood Murrow  
  
(Linwood then stared at a picture of Holland and wished that he could even be  
that cool.)  
  
~~~  
  
  
September 6th, 2002  
  
Wesley,  
  
I know you want to do good. I can sense it. Angel's in trouble, but I've  
ascended to a higher plane. I need you to help. Please, Wesley.  
  
Cordelia Chase  
1523 Higher Plane Dr.  
Heeeaaaaaven, HP 10108  
  
P.S: Is that suit Versacci?  
  
~~~  
  
September 9th, 2002  
  
Cordelia,  
  
You've ascended? You've got to be kidding me. That's ridiculous.  
  
-Wesley  
  
(Wesley then felt the need to lie down. He grabbed some anti-depressants  
and rum and passed out on the sofa.)  
  
~~~  
  
  
September 13th, 2002  
  
Wesley,  
  
This is your fic writer, Fluff. I'll say it's ridiculous that Cordelia ascended, but  
she's not kidding. What crap, eh? I mean, you've dedicated your whole life to the  
good fight (Well, until recently) and this bitchy girl from SoCal gets to ascend? I  
mean, what is THAT?  
  
Sincerely,  
FLuFFy  
  
(FLuff then muttered to herself, "It has to get better, right?" and chowed down  
on peanut brittle)  
  
~~~  
  
  
END. 


End file.
